


The Bowling League

by lonestarbabe (neverfeltlesscool), Pigeonsplotinsecrecy



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Fun, Gen, Lighthearted, Team as Family, bowling, ridiculous in a fun way, that's about it pals, trying their best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:27:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22897207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverfeltlesscool/pseuds/lonestarbabe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pigeonsplotinsecrecy/pseuds/Pigeonsplotinsecrecy
Summary: The team joins a bowling league for first responders. They are not so great, but they bring chaos to the league and have a lot of fun and love each other.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Comments: 27
Kudos: 188





	The Bowling League

When Owen Strand told the team that they were joining a bowling league, no one else thought it was a good idea. Paul could hardly hit the pins down, and T.K. didn’t even know the basic rules. While Marjan was confident in her skills, she didn’t want to be part of the losing team, and Judd grumbled that he had better things to do with his time off. Mateo was the least resistant, but even then, he was apathetic about it. But Owen was persistent, and one by one, convinced the team to join him in the first responders bowling league.

They were only in the second frame, but it was already clear that it would take a miracle for the 126 to win the game. T.K. was up, and as the ball hit the gutter for the second time, Paul nudged him and said with a laugh, “Trying to impress your boyfriend?” Carlos was in the lane next to them with some officers from his precinct. Carlos had gotten two strikes in a row.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” T.K. muttered, looking around to make sure Carlos wasn’t nearby, and he wasn’t. He was off to the side laughing with two of his coworkers. T.K. and Carlos had been hanging out, but they weren’t quite there yet, not at the boyfriend level.

Paul just laughed, “And I thought I was a bad bowler.”

Marjan groaned as she got up to take her turn. “You _are_ a bad bowler.” She threw her hands in the air to point at one of the police officers getting a spare. “We couldn’t beat them if we were using bumpers.”

“Bumpers?” T.K. asked, looking to Paul for guidance. Paul shrugged. “All I know is that we don’t have them.”

Judd seemed to think the whole thing was hilarious as he picked at his cheese fries and watched the chaos. “Didn’t ya ever take the kid bowling, Cap?”

“It’s probably best I didn’t. If he’s this bad now, I can’t imagine what he would’ve done as a kid.”

“Hey,” T.K. said. “It’s not like I’m the only one who sucks. I’m only five points behind Paul.” The sound of pins falling against the wood filled their ears as Marjan knocked down six pins.

“Marjan’s got you both beat in just one turn,” Mateo points out. Four pins remained, and she had one more shot to knock down the others.

“Shut up,” Paul said as Marjan lined her purple ball up with the remaining pins. She wound up and released it from her hands with a mix of grace and force. The ball zoomed down the lane and two pins toppled to the floor, taking the other two with them. The team cheered.

“Probie, you’re up,” Marjan called, looking satisfied that she was the team’s top player and annoyed that she wasn’t on the other team.

Mateo was not as good as Marjan, but he consistently got pins down and had managed to keep his ball out of the gutter, so he was in a race with Judd for second best on the team. Even so, half the pins were still standing after his turn, and the 126 gave him a half-hearted applause for his efforts. “Good try, Probie,” Marjan had said, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder.

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not,” Mateo responded.

“Just glad you’re better than some of these other losers.” No one debated her point.

Owen grabbed a green sparkly ball that he claimed to be his lucky one. It was meant for kids, but he seemed to think the smaller ball would make it easier to hit the pins and avoid the gutter. No one knew enough about bowling to tell him whether he was wrong or right. Owen wasn’t even wearing proper bowling shoes because he’d been concerned about the impact of used shoes on his foot health. Technically, there was a rule that you couldn’t bowl without bowling shoes, but the staff didn’t seem to care enough to tell him that he had to put his rental shoes on, so they were set on the chair next to him.

He slid across the floor and nearly rolled down the lane because of his improper footwear. For his troubles, a single pin teetered to the ground before the ball veered off into the gutter. “Come on, Dad,” T.K. encouraged, “Don’t mess this up!”

Owen shot T.K. a look before returning his focus to his lucky ball, which he’d had to wait several minutes for. A determined look crossed his face and he pulled his arm back and forth to mentally prepare for the shot he was about to take.

“Just throw the ball, Cap,” Judd yelled, impatiently waiting for his own turn. Owen purposely dragged out his turn. Pulling his arm back and catapulting the ball forward without releasing. Finally, to everyone’s relief, he let it go, and ever so slowly it meandered down the lane, knocking only two more pins down.

Owen seemed unperturbed by his score. “Better than a gutter ball!”

Marjan looked seconds away from leaving when Judd got up from his seat, cracking his knuckles before grabbing the heaviest ball he could find. “The pressure’s on,” T.K. said with a mischievous expression. “Don’t think too hard about the fact that if you do terribly, we may go down as the worst team in bowling league history.”

“Did I ask your opinion, pretty boy?” Judd didn’t wait for a response before turning to the lane and throwing the ball to the ground with brute force. Judd didn’t do much thinking before taking his turns. He just wound up and let the ball go where it went, and for the most part, it worked to his advantage. Seven pins fell and on his next turn, another one spun and wobbled before coming down.

By the end of the first games of for the night, they didn’t even need to look at the scores to know the police officers had won. They could have won using just their three worst players. But the 126 had two more teams to face. Maybe there was a worse team somewhere out there. Perhaps, the police officers had just been exceptionally good.

* * *

Michelle’s team did not go easy on the 126. As the game wore on, it became obvious that, no, Carlos’ team had not been exceptionally good. They had been good, that was for sure, but Michelle’s team was competitive. Cops liked to win, but paramedics liked to decapitate the heads of their enemies and then stitch them back on.

After another turn in the gutter, T.K. went to the bar to get mineral water but wound up with tap water because the bartender had looked confused at the term mineral water. It was a bowling alley, so he supposed he shouldn’t have expected too much. The taste was different, but it managed to distract him from his team’s horrific performance.

“Do you know they’re nicknaming your team the last responders?” Carlos asked, coming up beside T.K. at the bar.

“Seems about right.”

“Are you even trying to hit the pins, Tiger?” 

“If I said I was aiming for the worst score in bowling ever, would you believe me?”

Carlos chuckled, “You did get that one strike, though.”

“In another lane! I swear that my ball has a magnetic pull to the gutter.”

“Maybe try using a different one.”

“The pink eight pound one, the black ten pound one, the sparkly green one my dad loves— they all love the gutter. I think I’m cursed.”

“I’d give you some pointers, but I really don’t think they’d help. Not throwing the ball backwards is a good place to start.”

“That was one time!”

“The only other time I’ve seen the ball go backwards is in Wii Sports.” They both laughed, and it was nice how comfortable they were around each other.

T.K. noticed his dad waving him over and sighed. “Speaking of not knocking down any pins, I have to go take my next turn.”

“You might get a better score if you just skip it.”

“Really funny, Mr. 252 points,” T.K. said before turning to walk away and go back to bowling hell.

“Remember, you’re supposed to take down pins, not people,” he heard Carlos call after him.

T.K. looked back to glare but couldn’t help the giggle that came out when he finally looked away.

* * *

In the final game, the 126’s score was better than it ever had been, which was not saying much, but T.K. had no major mishaps and Paul had broken sixty. It was the tenth frame, and while winning was out of the question, Paul would get the final turn of the game. Even if bowling had been a disaster, they’d had a lot of fun, laughing and cheering each other on.

“You’ve got this,” T.K. told Paul, who he’d bonded with over their shared confusion over bowling terminology and basic technique.

Paul didn’t put much effort into his final turn. He just took the ball and let it drop to the floor. It moved speedily down the lane, slamming into the pins. They all tumbled to the ground, and for a second, the whole 126 froze in shock before they broke out into cheers, fist bumping and hugging Paul.

“Ready for your next turn?” Owen asked.

“My what?” Paul asked.

“You get two extra shots when you get a strike in the tenth frame. They’re like bonus points.”

“Who the hell invented this game?” T.K. asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

Mateo replied, “You’re just unhappy because you’ll never get a strike in _any_ frame.”

Paul gave T.K. a slap on the back. “Don’t worry. I didn’t think it would happen to me either, but here we are.”

Paul went to grab an orange ball he’d been using throughout the game, but Owen stopped him. “Don’t end the game with that ugly ball.” Owen grabbed the sparkly green one and put it in Paul’s hands. “This one will do the trick. It’s lucky.”

“I don’t believe in luck.” Paul didn’t look pleased with the ball swap. “This ball couldn’t knock a feather over.”

“Don’t you trust your captain, Paul?”

“I don’t trust anyone with the name Strand when it comes to bowling.”

“He’s right, Owen, the Strand family ain’t got any expertise in bowling.”

“But I’ve got a better score than Paul, don’t I?”

Paul sighed. “Fine. I guess that it can’t hurt to use the kiddy ball.” He turned from the group and took a breath before letting the ball slowly roll down the lane. It didn’t have the force of his last turn but stayed down the center, connecting with the central pin and knocking down a few around it. All but two pins remained, but it’d take a miracle to hit both given the large gap that separated the pins.

“Can I forfeit my other turn?” Paul asked, not even wanting to attempt to hit the two farthest out pins.

“No!” the whole 126 shouted.

“You can do this, Paul,” T.K. cheered, and no one bothered telling him that Paul’s skill level meant that he probably couldn’t do it, but the small chance that it could happen excited everyone regardless.

Paul’s face remained calm as he waited for the green ball to come back, grabbed it, and lined his shot up with the pins. He brought his hand back and released the ball with a steady arm. It veered dangerously close to the gutter but kept to the edge of the wood, carefully rolling along the outermost plank of wood. It hit the pin on the left which slid across the floor and hit the other pin. The pin on the right wobbled back and forth, and the team held their breath waiting to see if it fell to the ground.

The whole bowling alley quieted as the team looked to the one last pin, which was teetering less wildly now but still had the momentum to fall.

“Two strikes in a row.” T.K. called gleefully when the pin finally dropped.

“That was a spare, T.K.,” Marjan explained, looking at him like he was a lost cause.

“Who the hell cares what it was,” Judd said, pulling Paul in for a side hug. “Our boy kicked ass.”

Owen lifted his plastic cup. “There’s a bowler in there after all.” Everyone else lifted their glasses containing various beverages. “To the worst bowling team to ever enter the league and our MVP, Paul Strickland.”

Marjan didn’t even argue that her score was still the highest. She clanked he,r glass against Paul’s and said, “To winning the game next time!”

“To winning the game next time,” they all echoed with laughs and smiles on their faces. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this!! Thanks so much for reading.


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